


Anomalies

by midget_greenie



Category: The Monkees (TV)
Genre: Fanservice, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22966105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midget_greenie/pseuds/midget_greenie
Summary: Summary: 6 things that probably never happened at 1334 BeechwoodAuthors Note/Warning: They all totally end up making out with each other. Yes, they do.
Relationships: Micky Dolenz/Davy Jones/Mike Nesmith/Peter Tork
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	1. Disharmony

They had been arguing for nearly twenty minutes now, with no sign of it ending anytime soon. Their roommates had been driven from the house by the force of it; to any but the two doing the fighting, it seemed to be just a round of petty bickering that didn’t involve anyone else, while coming off as slightly overly aggressive. Also, by dint of its repetitiveness, the argument had lost all of its entertainment value.

“I’m doing what’s in the best interests of this group!” Mike, in the most calm, collected fashion he could manage at this point, attempted to reason with his bandmate. Mike was honestly so accustomed to the 'dad' role within their collective that it was almost his default setting, and that may have clouded his judgement a bit. He was, at this point, starting to lose patience here, and was fairly close to actually losing his temper with the little jerk.

“But you have no right to make decisions that concern any of us without our input!” Davy’s customary charm and charisma were put aside in favor of a scrappy, street-smart variety of righteous irritation. It might have been easy to assume that he didn’t care about anything but chasing girls and having a good time, if one didn’t know him well (many people had misjudged him). Thus, it might have been easy to underestimate his capacity for trying to right a perceived wrong (not to mention his will and ability to kick serious butt).

“Davy, look, I know what we're dealing with here, and I know what needs to be done. By the time I’d actually managed to sit everyone down and have an actual meeting, who knows what mighta gone down?” Mike stuck to his guns, but anyone who knew him would've been completely unsurprised by this. He was notorious for his bullishness whenever he felt that he was in the right.

Davy, though nearly a foot shorter than his sparring partner, had no trepidation about stepping into Mike’s space. He could easily match Mike with a quick temper and wit. Davy glared up at him defiantly and quietly intoned, “You may think you know everything, but we don't The rest of us are equally entitled to involvement in decision-making when it comes to this band.”

Mike, feeling a mix of anger at Davy’s attitude and guilt because Davy made a good point, mustered every ounce of self-control he had (in order to not knock the angry little shrimp across the room). In an attempt to gain control of the situation (and because he was honestly just all up in his feelings at this point) he stepped forward, locking into a staring contest with the smaller man.

“Now, look here, shotgun, it’s already a done deal, and if you don’t like it,” Mike growled defensively, “then you know where to find the door.”

Everything that followed happened so quickly that Mike could only react without the luxury of strategy. Davy lost his temper and flew at Mike, who reacted by pinning his arms down and shoving him against a living room wall, holding him there with all the strength he could muster. (It was a notably Herculean effort, as Davy was a great deal stronger than he appeared.) It was at some point in this impasse, when Davy struggled violently against Mike (and thus caused him to further tighten his grip), that they found themselves kissing each other angrily and desperately.

This carried on for a few minutes. The anger dissipated; their embrace became passionate and tentatively curious. Mike let his hands slip through Davy's soft, satiny hair; Davy stroked the side of Mike’s face with one hand while playing with his tie with the other.

The kiss finally broke of its own accord, leaving its participants sneaking awkward glances at each other. Both were actually thinking along the same lines now- that was extremely unexpected, and neither was sure what to think or feel.

After a few awkwardly charged, confused moments, Davy finally started to retreat to his and Peter’s shared room. He turned back to Mike, his face creased with worry.

“Mike?”

Mike looked across the room at him. “Yeah?”

“We’re okay, then?”

Mike, quietly overcome with sympathy for the boy, shot him a weak smile.

“Yeah, we’re okay.” He paused, while Davy stared at him expectantly. “Look, man, I’m sorry. You're right, I should've actually talked to y'all about the situation before making a decision.”

David smiled ruefully. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper with you like that. I'm sorry." He paused to gather his thoughts. "I believe your intentions are good, and I do trust your judgement."

They left it at that, at least for the time being. Mike planned to call a house meeting as soon as it was feasible. Neither one was sure if they wanted to give further thought to what had just happened- that was a lot to unpack.


	2. Mike's Garage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of the Anomalies series (AKA Monkees shipping deluxe fanservice). Micky stumbles into his and Mike's shared bedroom after an evening out. It goes in an unexpected direction.

Mike’s Garage

Mike was unceremoniously and suddenly roused from his sleep by the sound of Micky stumbling through their shared room in the dark. Irritated, he turned the light on to see Micky smile at him sheepishly.

“You know, it would've been less intrusive of you to actually turn the light on so you could see what you were doing," Mike muttered sleepily (yet saltily). He glanced at the alarm clock on his bedside table and saw that it was past 2 am. “Well, all I can say is that as late as it is, I hope you had fun.”

Micky plopped down on his bed, yanked off his sneakers, and threw them into the closet, grinning from ear to ear and palpably excited. “It was crazy, man. You really missed out! Why didn’t you come with me like I asked you to?” 

Mike lay back on the bed and sighed, crossing his arms behind his head. “Mick, man, I keep telling you that clubs just ain't my bag.”

Micky bounced off the bed and crossed over to the dresser to rummage for some clean pajamas, rolling his eyes as he did so. “Well, you know what? I’m starting to think that nothing is your scene if it doesn’t have anything to do with cars or Texas.” Having found pajamas, he yanked his shirt off and lobbed it toward the hamper. He missed it, but Mike had agreed to let stuff like that go since Micky was making a real effort to amend his semi-sloppy ways. Intent on a quick scrub-up and change, he started toward the bedroom door. Instead, he sat on the foot of Mike’s bed, looking down on him. “What somebody needs to do,” he continued with a wily grin, “is make a nightclub that you’d really dig.”

Mike chuckled in spite of himself. “Oh, really? What do you think will actually entice me?”

“Well, someone could find an old gas station or garage, and give it a complete overhaul- give it a nice, groovy paint job, decorate with gas station signs and black lights and car parts and-“

Mike got into the rhythm of Micky’s oddball diatribe pretty quickly. “Ooh, how about aluminum foil on the walls and- oh, man, those bubble lights that go on Christmas trees..." Mike continued to relax and smile while imagining (although he was sure he'd read somewhere that some rock star had decorated their dressing room in Christmas lights, and it sort of bothered him that he couldn't quite remember who- Jimi Hendrix, maybe?)

Micky picked up on Mike's enthusiasm and ran with it; he absolutely enjoyed seeing Mike let loose like this for once instead of almost constantly worrying about everything. “Psychedelically painted gas pumps, and tools, and car parts! And, let's see, what else..."

Mike began to shake with laughter. “All it needs is a big ol' map of Texas...”

“A black light reactive map of Texas,” Micky snorted, almost falling off the bed. “Just think, Mike, this would be the most unusual hot spot in all of Malibu.”

By now, Micky and Mike were sitting upright and close tomeach other on the bed. They were relaxed, happy, and feeling something neither one could really articulate. In a matter of seconds, they found themselves locked into a passionate and slightly awkward embrace. It was a delightfully long, slow kiss ; they eventually stretched out on the bed as they made brief forays into each others territory.   
After what seemed like forever, they broke the embrace and looked at each other before giggling like maniacs. Then, Micky found his pajamas and headed for the bathroom to freshen up for the night.

Mike thought over their conversation. Such a nightclub wouldn't a half-bad idea. Of course, it would be hard to find the capital for such a venture, but then again, it would mean a permanent performance space for them, and for other struggling bands. He scribbled some figures and details on a notepad by his bed, then lay back down and waited for Micky to return.

As he made his way to his bed, Micky turned to Mike and said, offhandedly, “We’d call it Mike’s Garage, and it would be the coolest.” Mike smiled quietly to.himself and drifted back into sleep.


	3. 96 Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 of the Anomalies Series. 
> 
> Davy thinks he's alone in the house, until Micky scares him silly.

Davy stood in front of the bathroom mirror, admiring his freshly-dried hair. He'd spent most of the morning on the beach, and had come home to an empty Pad for the first time in quite a while. He ha decided that this was the best time to take as long in the shower as he wanted, since it seemed that most of the time there was a line for it.  
Having finished his grooming ritual, he threw his dirties in the hamper and headed to the living room to relax with a book he'd borrowed from Peter. Just as he was about to flop down onto the chaise lounge, he heard a crash from somewhere upstairs.   
Davy, startled out of his wits, dashed to the corner where the baseball bat was kept and grabbed it. Properly armed, he crept up the spiral staircase while trying to keep calm.  
Once he got to the top of the stairs, he could hear music coming from Mike and Micky's room. The door was partially open, and he could see Micky rearranging his desk as he sung along to the Rolling Stones' latest hit. Davy sighed with relief- it was just Micky. He probably had come home while Davy was in the shower.  
Meanwhile, Micky actually noticed Davy standing in the doorway of his bedroom with the baseball bat still firmly gripped and slung over his shoulder. He had no idea what to make of this. The two of them were standing there, staring at each other in vague amusement.   
"Everything okay, Dave?" Micky finally spoke up, gesturing at the bat that Davy hadn't relaxed his grip on. Davy eyed the bat and chuckled, leaning it against the door frame. "Oh, yeah, everything is groovy. Just a bit paranoid, I suppose." Both chuckled.  
“So, Micky, is it just you, or do I get to surprise Peter and Mike as well?” 

Micky finished tidying up his desk, and began making his bed with freshly washed bedding. “Well, we dropped Peter off at the library on our way to the laundromat so I assume he’s still there. No clue where Mike is; After we got back, he took off again.”

“Right,” Davy responded, “I must have been in the shower when you came in.”

Micky finished making his bed. Davy crossed over to the table where the small radio sat, turning the volume up a bit. “96 Tears” had just come on. It was a couple of years old, but it had been a house favorite for a while (to the point of then trying to cover it, but to no avail). Davy bobbed his head in time to the music. “Hey, Micky, remember this one?"

Micky began snapping to the beat. "Oh, man, how can I forget? It has a good beat and you can dance to it,” he quipped. Davy took this to be an invitation to get down and funky; he immediately launched into an oddball, shuffling, semi-frug that ha managed to not only pull off, but make look really clever. Micky got into the spirit of things and began dancing with tremendous energy. The two of them tended to play off each other very well- their energies complemented each of them. It was, overall, a really good dynamic.

After a few seconds, they began dancing together in a bouncy, shimmying twist that would have astounded any casual observer. They kept moving closer and closer into each others’ personal space with nary a glance or expression to suggest that this was weird.

Just as this oddball little dance session was really getting good, Micky wound up tripping over a stray shoe, taking Davy down with him.Theu wound up tangled up together on the floor in a breathless heap. The energy between the two of them was exciting and thoroughly intoxicating.

In a split second, their lips met, and it was electric for both of them. They briefly separated before kissing again with more fervor. Each found the sensation to be novel and interesting, and both had their (deeply secret) curiosities satisfied.

They eventually separated. They looked at each other pretty straightforwardly before dissolving into heaps of squawking laughter.

“Wow,” Micky snort-laughed.

Davy nodded, still chortling. “I know.” He picked himself up off the floor, and then helped Micky to his feet. The song ended, and the DJ announced the newest one by the Doors. It seemed to be a given that this was going to be their slightly naughty little secret, at least for now.


	4. How Other People Live and Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Micky and Peter have a very adult discussion, along with a rather adult moment.

Micky found Peter on the back deck of the house, strumming his guitar and watching the sun set on the beach. The cool breeze was refreshing, and Micky was glad for a moment of quiet.   
However, after a few minutes, Micky felt that he needed to have a very specific and awkward conversation with his friend, now, while they had the chance.

“So, Pete," he began, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his shirt, "we’ve got a couple of big gigs lined up in San Francisco.”

Peter stopped strumming and turned toward Micky. “I know. I can’t wait! It’s gonna be so much fun! Are we gonna try to drive down Lombard Street?”

Micky chuckled, unsure how Mike the Gearhead would feel about doing that to the Monkeemobile. “Well, I guess we could try to convince Mike..." Micky paused and quietly took a deep breath before saying what he was struggling to say.  
"Hey, listen, um, you know the club we’re gonna be playing?” Peter nodded to indicate that he was listening. Micky wasn’t keen on having this conversation, but he felt that Peter should know what they were getting into. Although Micky himself wasn't phased by their upcoming gig, he'd had enough experience with outright, casual homophobia that he still felt uneasy, especially since Mike had expressed some concerns about how this gig might affect their reputation. Davy, for what it was worth, wasn't phased in the slightest- he'd done so much theater before he joined their band that he wasn't uncomfortable in the least. 

“Well, Pete, they, um… well, it’s a lot different from what we’re used to.” Micky was trying really hard to handle this with sensitivity.

“The people don’t go to dance, to listen to music, and to hang out with each other?” Peter was genuinely confused by the seriousness of the conversation, conversation, as opposed Micky's typical irreverent goofiness.

Micky sighed, “No, they do all that stuff. You’re just gonna notice that, um, there won’t be many girls. Heck, there may not be any girls at all.” Micky prayed that Peter would get his drift.

“Ohhhhhh,” Peter responded, completely unfazed. “Well, that explains a lot.”

“Like what?”

“Well, something about this seems to have been bothering Mike a bit about this whole thing. Not that I blame him, of course- things are much different in Texas than they are here."

Micky, taken aback by the complexity of Peter’s observations, asked, “What about you? Does it bother you?”

Peter chuckled. "It's not like I'm unfamiliar with the concept of homosexuality. I'm just glad there's a safe place for them to get together and just be themselves, to be honest." Peter paused for a moment, in deep thought. "What about you?”

It was Micky’s turn to chuckle. “Honestly? Nope. That's their business. I don't feel like it's my place to have an opinion. Just let people live, right?" Peter nodded thoughtfully. "Besides , it's a really, REALLY groovy gig- one of the best-paying ones we've ever had, plus lots of other perks. Plus, I've heard the food there is really good!" 

They sat in silence for a moment. Peter gently placed his guitar in it's case before turning to Micky a bit hesitantly.

“Have you ever wondered, um, what it’s like? You know, to kiss another guy?” He toyed with the clasps on his guitar case as he spoke.

Micky felt like he had been shot through with a bolt of lightning. Why on earth was Peter asking him that? Did he suspect that he’d been a little on the experimental side during his year at college? Well, then again, this was Peter, who didn’t judge people for any reason whatsoever. He probably had a perfectly innocuous reason for asking.

“It’s not that much different from kissing a girl, really,” he confided.

Peter’s response was remarkably unsurprised. "Well, yeah, although it can be itchy if he hasn't shaved though..."  
Micky stared at Peter in disbelief. Had he really actually said that? Was he just kidding? 

"So, you..." he stammered, unsure how to phrase the question without offending Peter.  
Peter caught his drift. He looked toward the inside of the Pad, presumably to make absolutely sure they were completely alone before proceeding.  
"Well, the summer after my freshman year of college, I spent a couple of months in Germany, and I made friends with this really groovy bunch of people. They called themselves 'exis', because they were existentialists. Artists, really. Really smart, and interesting. Also, very open-minded, especially with, well, sex." Peter paused to gauge Micky's reaction. Micky seemed keen to hear more.

"One of them, Jurgen, was... I'm not sure how to put this... He liked girls and guys." He paused again and took adeep breath- he'd never confided this to anyone before, and he was understandably nervous.  
" Anyway, Jurgen was, um, interested in me, and I thought I might actually feel the same way, and one night... Well, we kissed. Nothing else, though; I think it seemed like a better idea in theory than in practice." Peter looked both nervous and grateful for the opportunity to actually tell someone. 

Micky, in an overwhelming state of empathy, put his arm around Peter's shoulders in a gesture that was intended to be a friendly bit of comfort. Neither one of them quite understood how they found themselves kissing within seconds. 

Micky's first impulse was to panic- after all, he'd pretty well put the whole college experience behind him for many reasons- but he found himself intrigued by Peter’s amazingly good technical skill. His curiosity piqued, Micky relaxed and returned the kiss with vigor.

They ended the embrace eventually. Again, this seemed to be something that was better in theory than in practice.

“You okay? ” Peter asked gently, still processing what had just happened.

Micky laughed drily. He hadn't been opposed to it, but he realized that it was just more weird than anything. He was comforted by the notion that he wasn't alone in his not- quite heterosexuality, but that didn't make him find Peter so attractive that he'd be willing to torpedo their friendship over a potential fling.

"Yeah, man, I'm fine. You?"

Peter chuckled. "Oh, yeah, of course. He paused momentarily. “You really need to shave, though...”

Micky and Peter leaned against the side of the house, laughing until they could barely breathe. It was an odd moment, for sure, but there was good in it. They'd both been able to confide something in each other that neither had been able to share before. 

Just as they'd managed to calm down and collect themselves, Davy poked his head out the door to announce that he was home, and to see what they were up to. After he went back inside, both Peter and Micky looked at each other meaningfully. Each had noticed how the other's face had lit up while Davy was out there with them.

"Seriously? Davy?" Micky asked, with one raised eyebrow, both incredulous and unsurprised. Peter blushed and stuttered, unsure of how to answer. 

"Well..."

Micky continued, still unsure of where he was going with this. "Wait, is he..."

Peter shook his head vigorously. "Oh, no, at least I don't think so. I just..." Peter sighed. "Don't judge me," he quietly muttered.

Micky giggled. "Are you kidding? I can't!"

It took Peter a moment to catch Micky's drift. "Wait, you too?"

Micky blushed and howled with laughter. "Yep, " he managed to choke out. "Don't judge me..."

By this time, Peter was shaking with laughter. "I can't!"

They finally pulled themselves together and made their way inside. They would have many inside jokes in the future, and there was no way they were ever gonna explain this to either of their bandmates, at least not for a very long time...


End file.
